Useless
by Nariena
Summary: Chester disappears from Morrison's house, leaving behind a brief note. A blueleafed tree as his guide, Cless searches for the archer. OneShot. ClessxChester. PostGame and OVA


**Warning**: This one-shot contains obvious shounen-ai. Also, if you didn't catch on, the pairing is ClessxChester.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Tales of Phantasia the game, or the OVA, however much I wish I did.

**A/N**: Well, I know I really should be working on "An Unexpected Visitor," but when Farore wants something done, well, I do it. Honestly! She bugs me at the most annoying times. Like, for example, I started writing at midnight, using my GBA for a light _again_. Well, I shan't bore you with the details, so, without further ado, here's "Useless". Enjoy!

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**Useless**

It had all started when the Heroes of Time reassembled at Morrison's home. It was November, and the leaves were falling in torrents now. The area around Morrison's house was experiencing a cold front, and it was fairly breezy, as well. The leaves blew about the land, landing strewn about alongside the cobblestone pathways. Even the shingled roof of the large estate was covered in leaves.

When Chester had arrived, he joined his former companions in the main hall. He exchanged greetings with them all, noting any major differences. It had been a month, at least, since he had last seen any of them, Cless being the last. 'Speak of the devil.' Chester remarked, joyous to see the swordsman once again. He looked over the Alvein. He appeared to be the same as before, still the same size. His armour had not changed at all, still a silver-white for the most part. His honey gold hair was slightly longer than the archer remembered, but was still kept out of his eyes with that long, red headband that always fluttered in the wind. Chester wondered why he always wore a headband. He probably would have looked nice without one.

Cless had surveyed the archer for any changes around this time, as well. Chester had not grown at all, save his long hair, still the colour of a stormy sea. It was tied up into a ponytail as always, with a few loose strands here and there in the front. Cless noted that the archer's eyes were still as hard as ever, haunted, the colour of steel.

Violet-indigo met steel as the pair's eyes met, nearly total opposites. Chester grinned, waving with the small motion of a gloved hand. "Hey."

Cless replied, smiling fully. "Hey."

Once Arche had arrived, late, to the dismay of the others, Morrison explained to the heroes why he had gathered them all there. It was something to do with an event that had happened shortly before the group met Runeglome 'Funny,' Chester thought, 'We've come all the way here, and I can't even remember the reason.'

After Morrison had finished his speech, the group gathered in close together, and began small talking, just like old times. Chester, who had been standing quietly in the corner, stepped outside. He found a clear spot on the browning grass just under a window, and leaned against the wall, arms crossed behind his head. He ran through his memories between the time of Toltus' destruction and the group's heading fifty years into the future for the first time. Frustrated, he could find nothing of the kind he was looking for. 'Dammit! Why can't I remember!?' He questioned himself angrily.

Chester was roused out of his thoughts when, coming from inside, he heard Cless speaking. Ears perked, he listened intently. "... Useless... like Chester..." Unfortunately for the both of them, Mint had chosen that time to sneeze loudly, and Chester hadn't heard everything said.

Immediately, his eyes were screwed shut. He felt sick. Had he really just been a liability during their journey?

Next, the archer stood erect, fists clenched tightly. How could Cless have said such a thing!? He was supposed to have been a friend! A scream bubbled in the back of his throat, threatening to burst out at any moment. Chester resisted, but felt a wave of devastation pass over him.

Cless had betrayed him. He was supposed to have stuck up for him, defend his honour when Chester wasn't able to. Of course, he had been wrong about that, too. Again, the archer was alone, just like he had been when his little sister, Amy was killed.

He strode quietly into the home through the back door, and grabbed a piece of parchment from the supply kept on the wooden desk in the room. He scribbled some words down with a quill pen, and planted it firmly by the door. It read:

"I'll be back soon. Don't go looking for me.  
-Chester"

The archer picked up his bow, readjusted his quiver, and was off, out the door. Without looking back, he sped along the mountainside. He paused to catch his breathe at the mouth of a cave. It seemed familiar somehow, yet foreboding. It appeared dank, and its mouth was large. He ventured inside, noting a blue-leafed tree sprout near the entrance to what looked like a tomb.

As he wandered further in, his resolve became set. He would train himself; make himself useful. The sole-remaining Barklight ventured on into the darkness.

Funny that he should be in the mausoleum.

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Cless wandered sluggishly throughout Morrison's home. "I wonder where Chester went?" He questioned the air, and, as if in answer, a piece of parchment came into view. He strode over, now a little less bored, and grabbed it. He scanned it, and grew worried. The swordsman reassured himself. "Chester is quite capable of taking care of himself... I'm sure he'll be fine."

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The archer entered a ruined area of the mausoleum. It looked as if it had once been a place of great importance, and it seemed very familiar. He couldn't recall, however, if he had been there once before. He scanned his surroundings intently once more, found a good target, and got to work. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and held it taught to the bowstring. He aimed with the focus reserved only for battles, and released the string, repeating the motion with fluid grace until he ran out of arrows.

Chester checked his target. "Heh." The arrows were clustered in the centre of the large piece of debris he had been aiming for. Then, he hastily jogged towards the debris, but stopped, a sudden jolt of pain in his left ankle. Looking down at it, he didn't see much wrong, but, then again, he did have his shoes on. The archer shrugged it off, continuing towards the piece of debris, though slightly slower. If he really was useless, then there would be no need for his ankle to recover.

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On the second day, Cless was beginning to get very worried. When Chester had said he'd be back soon, the swordsman had figured he had meant before the day was up. He sighed, fell back onto his bed. Closing his eyes, he murmured to himself. "Chester will be fine. He can take care of himself." ...Right?

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Chester groaned. His ankle had given out on him two times now, and, each time he had wounded himself. First, his back had been skewered by a jagged rock. He had fallen backwards, that time, and landed on the rock. It had torn through his clothing, breaking the skin underneath. 'No matter,' he had thought. 'I can still train, and, besides... It won't matter if I'm useless.' The second fall had been worse. The archer had somehow managed to fall sideways, and his head had hit something. The next thing he knew, he was bleeding, crimson fusing with a blue-grey. The blood slowly trailed down his left cheek, dripping off and soaking into his clothing below. The blood was getting to be very distracting, but the archer refused to cease his training.

Another throb of pain caused the archer to wince, and he sighed. He sat in front of some debris, leaning against it, with one leg straight out in front of him, the other hugged close to him. "A little break... can't hurt..." He looked upward, his visage set upon a clay casket, and it must have triggered something, because, within a second, the hairs on the back of Chester's neck were on end. "I... remember..." He breathed.

Scenes were flickering by before his eyes:

_ The archer inclined his head away from a strong light, looking at Cless. "I'll buy you some time. So make sure you come back!" He felt courage, but also doubt, hidden behind his proud features, and the scene changed._

_ Chester felt the familiar feel of his bowstring between his second and third fingers. He could tell he was smirking. He was aiming at Dhaos. "Heh."_

_ Now the steel-eyed youth was leaning against something cold for support, bow raised, the string taut. He could feel his muscle contract, and the arrow clattered to the floor. "Huh... That's not right..." Then, sliding down to the ground, he continued, voice a hoarse whisper. "It wasn't... supposed to... be like this..."_

_ The scene flickered to another. "Don't get all... cocky now... Demon Lord or whatever..." The archer shivered under Dhaos' emotionless gaze. "Soon enough, Cless will return... And he'll kick your ass..."_

_ The scene changed one final time, and Chester was laughing, a hopeless smile upon his features. "Even his own parents had been murdered... But he just quietly let a hysterical jerk like me hit him... And you're saying he's evil...? Don't judge him from your level... Mr. Demon Lord...!"_

_ "Enough." Dhaos raised his hand from his side, and said two final words. "Now sleep."_ Chester's head lulled, and his grip on his bow slackened. His eyelids drooped. Lower... Lower... A weak exhale, and he fell into the darkness' arms.

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_ A blue leaf, very close to the colour of Chester's hair, slowly floated to the ground, underneath its grand tree. The sky turned grey, and the tree withered, the leaf now left alone. A drop of blood fell to the ground, spreading out under the leaf, and a hoarse whisper sounded. "... Cless..."_

The golden-haired youth gasped, taking short, quick breaths. He fought the urge to scream out his companion's name, as he shot up, covers tumbling to the end of the squeaky bed in a heap. 'That voice... It was Chester...!' He half-ran over to his armour, all set and ready on a mannequin. Hastily throwing it on his person, he slammed the door shut, entering the hallway. Cless stopped to pull on his boots, mind racing. 'That tree... It only grows where the deceased lay, doesn't it?' He asked himself, bending down to tighten them. 'We saw one in the mausoleum the last time we went, didn't we? That must mean Chester's there!'

Complete with disturbing thoughts of what could have happened to Chester, the youth rushed off into the rising sun, determined to find his companion.

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Upon entering the mausoleum, Cless' gaze fell on a speck of a blue leaf. He started, nervous to see what lay ahead of him. It looked quite similar to a strand of Chester's hair, tossed about by the breeze that the cave's entrance let in. He was relieved to see that it was, in fact, just a leaf, particularly the leaf he had seen before. ... Or did that make everything worse?

As the swordsman made his way further inside, the walls gradually becoming smoother, hieroglyphics drawn in strange, faded colours, he came upon a large wooden door, heavy from the amount of moisture absorbed. Cless took a hesitant step towards it, and another, until he was a mere inch away. He swung it open; it's massive hinges creaking. Striding forward cautiously, he looked around intently.

The swordsman nearly died right there.

To his right, Cless could see Chester, slumped over against a piece of debris. He looked just as he had when the swordsman had returned from the past, to return to him. This disturbed him greatly. He knelt down at the fallen archer's side, surveying his body. Locks of the archer's fine hair had fallen loose from their tie, several of them crimson at the roots, from the wound above his left eye. There was a trail of blood from the wound leading down his cheek, and, otherwise, his face was a ghostly white.

Cless took in a shuddering breath, and gently shook the archer. "... Chester...?"

... Silence.

He shook the archer again. "... Chester...!?"

... More silence.

"CHESTER!!!"

... A snore sounded, coming from the mentioned archer.

Cless raised his hand to smack the archer, but lowered it when the archer murmured. "... Forgive me..." He sounded oddly peaceful, saying something like that. It was odd, hearing the defensive archer sound so helpless. Cless brushed a strand of stormy hair out of his face, and whispered his name. Then, he lifted his companion up, holding him against his armoured chest.

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It was at least mid-afternoon by the time the pair returned to Morrison's home, and the sun was high in the sky. Just outside of the door, Cless shifted positions, securing Chester on his back. He entered the main hall, and, almost immediately, every other occupant in the house was crowded around, looks of bewilderment hiding their excitement. Cless pushed past the group, and entered Chester's room, placing him under the covers of the archer's bed.

Mint, Arche, and Klarth entered the room, concern written on their countenances. Klarth stepped forward, looked from Chester to Cless, and back to Chester. "What happened to him?" The magic-users chorused together solemnly.

Cless shook his head. "I don't know. I just found him like this." Arche began to move towards the archer, but stopped when Cless coughed. "Please. I'd like to be alone with him for a while." The half-elf nodded, and, with one final look of pity in Chester's direction, left the room, followed closely by the others.

The swordsman busied himself cleaning and bandaging the archer's wounds, a ghost of a smile apparent. He was relieved to know that Chester would be okay. His breathing had become steadier, stronger.

Cless sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at the other's face for any sign of waking, and remained this way for quite some time.

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Chester's surroundings slowly came into focus, and he squinted, the light streaming into the room in great amounts. He shifted, the covers rustled with his movement. "... Why...?" Startled by the voice, he propped himself up on his forearms, now able to get a clear view of its owner. Cless. The swordsman repeated his question, this time stronger. "Why did you do that, Chester!? You had me worried sick!"

The archer shrugged, hard eyes covering the pain of hearing Cless yell at him. "I... I wanted to prove myself..." He was mumbling, and Cless couldn't hear him correctly. "I won't be a burden anymore, Cless...! I have to get better...!" Chester flinched for a moment, attempting to sit up.

"Chester..."

The mentioned male snapped at him, then. "Don't say it, Cless! I heard you talking to the others about me. You all say I'm useless."

"We didn't say anything like that, idiot! We _need_ you!" '_I _need you.' The archer opened his mouth, about to retort sarcastically, but was silenced when Cless spoke again, but softly. "If you don't believe me, then here's proof that I, at least, do."

Cless pulled the archer towards him, blushing madly. Their lips locked, Chester's eyes widening in surprise. This was completely unexpected, but it felt so good. So right. The swordsman ran his fingers through the archer's hair, more strands, in turn, coming loose, and was careful not to near his head wound. The archer, in response, relaxed into the kiss, sinking into the swordsman's embrace.

The kiss ended after what seemed to be an eternity, though Chester remained in Cless' arms. He began to speak, but was silenced again, this time by a finger on his lips. Cless' voice was gentle, as he confirmed Chester's unsaid words. "... I know."

The archer looked up at the swordsman. And smiled.

'_Maybe I'm not so useless, after all._'

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**A/N**: Just a quick note, before I get down to business. That was my first-ever kiss scene. I'm very proud of it, so don't be too harsh about that part, okay? It's... a delicate issue.

Anyways, I thank you for reading, even those of you who decide to not review this little piece. So. Review... The button _beckons _to you...


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